


Through the Mirror

by The_Never_Forgetters



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Parentlock, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Never_Forgetters/pseuds/The_Never_Forgetters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was the golden boy at school with everything he wanted. When he found out his girlfriend was pregnant he was thrown into a whirlwind and found something he was actually missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, I hope you guys enjoy this parentlock. I've spent too many hours on it if you ask me. I would love for you guys to tell me if you like it, what you might like to see from the fic. I hope you guys have a great read.

John believed he was a well-rounded teen. He was able to keep a part time job, play for the school football team, get good grades in almost all of his classes, and have an active healthy sex life. His parents, of course, knew about three out of four of those things and they were proud of him. He was proud of himself to be honest.   
He had plans to join the army after school to help support himself through university as he tried to become a doctor. Though he was sure he would become a doctor, nothing was going to stop him. The drive to become a doctor started at a young age when he first saw his mother actually working as one. He always knew that she was one, but one time he was in the hospital and watched her work with the other boy in the room, actually making him feel better. Ever since then he wanted to help those in need.  
After he got his PhD, he hoped he would have someone to share a life with that wouldn’t mind being in the military life with him. By the time he was thirty he wanted a child. Someone he could teach and help grow into a wonderful, beautiful person.   
That was his plan. At seventeen years old, he had it all figured out. Everything was going to go as planned because that’s how it has always happened. Nothing went wrong for John Watson.   
Then one morning he woke up to a text from his girlfriend that didn’t derail his plan but stopped it completely.  
I’m pregnant. We need to talk.  
John had sat and stared at the text for twenty minutes before he noticed his hands were shaking and it took another ten minutes to get them to stop. He didn’t know what to do or what to say or anything.  
When an hour had passed after he received the text he decided to get up and get dressed. His heart was hammering in his chest as he pulled on his clothes, his fingers slipping on the zipper of his jeans and on his laces as he tried to tie them up.  
Once dressed, he rushed downstairs, ignoring his mother’s questions about why he was in such a rush as he made his way outside. He forgot he had a car and ran to her house, his adrenaline and fear urging him forward.   
At her house, everything was thrown into a blur. He was getting information he didn’t want and was getting yelled at by people who used to like him. He tried telling her parents that he didn’t mean to get her pregnant, but no one was having any of that. Not even Sophia. He didn’t understand how any of it was his fault though.  
After much yelling things calmed down and they all talked it out. Sophia was going to keep the baby and John was going to be involved in its life as much as she wanted him to be.  
One long talk, and a bruised side from slipping as he ran away from Sophia’s father, later, John was at home again, sitting with his parents at the kitchen table. His mother was oddly understanding and was quiet through most of the talk, adding only a few comments on how John could make the best of it. His father on the other hand was almost as angry as Sophia’s. He was called a few things he had only heard in movies before by him. It was odd to see such a proud father so disappointed.  
At the end of it all though he knew one thing. He had to make a new plan for his life.  
X  
In the next nine months John had pulled himself together and set on helping Sophia the best he could. He took a few more hours at his job, dropped football, and made sure he was with Sophia whenever she went to the doctor’s. He wanted to be there for his new family.   
John wasn’t sure anything else could shock him after he found out he was going to be a father; however, when they got the sonogram and found out there were going to be three babies instead of one John was sure his heart stopped. He was surprised he didn’t come to with someone shocking him to get his heart to start working again.   
What was he going to with three children? He wasn’t supposed to even have one kid, now he was having three. Sophia was happier than ever.  
A few months after they found out that they were having triplets they broke up. John was growing even more stressed over what he was going to do with his life and they were fighting more than usual. Mostly because John took on even more hours at his job.   
John decided to break up. The children didn’t need to be in the middle of a bad relationship, what would that teach them? Sophia agreed after listening to his reasoning. She didn’t want to be stuck in a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere anyway.  
So John cut another thing out of his life. Relationships. Not that he minded. He wanted to be ready for his kids.  
X  
John got the call that Sophia was going into labor on the morning of his birthday. He was ecstatic. The best birthday present he could ask for really.  
The eighteen year old had jumped out of bed, thrown on whatever was closest to him and ran downstairs. He shouted the news to his mother before jumping in his car and speeding to the hospital.  
It felt weird. He couldn’t stop thinking how nine months before he was in total panic mode, but now, on the day it was actually happening, he felt like he was riding a wave of bliss. Nothing was going to bring him down.  
When John arrived at the hospital, he searched the first floor, trying to find a room with Sophia but couldn’t find anything but locked doors and ones with ‘do not enter’ signs on them. A doctor stopped him in the hall and when she found out he was looking for someone giving birth she sent him to the right floor.  
Eventually he found the room and took his place by her side, taking her hand in his, offering words of comfort.   
After hours of screaming, mostly from him, and swears being thrown at anything in general the first baby was born.  
They decided to keep the sex of the baby a secret until the end and John knew it was worth the wait. John was floored when he saw the beautiful baby boy crying in the doctor’s arms. He took the baby once he was cleaned and held him close to his chest.  
Sophia only had a moment to enjoy the gift given to them before the other one started to join them. The second baby, another boy, was out and handed to Sophia’s mother who was on the other side of her. John grinned over at him as well.   
When John heard the cries of the third child, he was happy to see it was one more boy. One more son to call his own. He grinned as he watched the child be passed off to Sophia. Something inside him started to burn and he was truly happy for the first time in months.  
He was a father, he had three beautiful baby boys that looked so much like their mother already.  
After a while they decided they had to come up with names. Something they could never agree upon in the last few weeks.  
Sophia decided she wanted to name one after her favorite uncle Harrison. They chose to assign the name to the boy with bright green eyes. John wasn’t going to fight that even though he was sure that wasn’t a baby boy name. The teen figured the boy would grow into it.  
For the boy with the blue eyes, they decided Quincy, the name of the doctor that gave birth to them. John didn’t have a say in it really, but he wasn’t against the name completely.  
John was allowed to name the last boy, the one with a tuft of red hair on the top of his head just like their mother’s hair. John chose Milo. A name he read in a book when he was younger and always liked. Sophia expressed a minor distaste in it, but she didn’t stop it from going on the records.  
After their names were settled Sophia fell asleep along with the babies, family members came and went, congratulating John and cooing at the boys.   
After a while John was left alone, almost alone, he could hear Sophia’s slightly labored breathing in the background and the boys were with him.   
He stared at his sons, watching them squirm a bit as they slept. He stood and looked over them, gently running his finger over Quincy’s forehead. He grinned like a loon and bent down to kiss their foreheads before sitting back down. Nothing could bring him down from this wonderful high.  
How wrong was he?  
X  
A few days after the birth, Sophia became ill. Very ill. The doctors said she would get better. John was a fool to believe that lie because she only got worse.  
When the kids were able to go home, she had to stay at the hospital. John visited her every day with her mother and the kids. Every day she just looked worse, but the doctors kept saying she would get better.  
John was beginning to hate that word. If someone was supposed to be getting better, then they shouldn’t look like they were dying.  
John didn’t let his worry show around the boys though. He felt they knew when he was sad and he already had enough crying from them. It was easy to keep his smile on around them though. They were cute, funny, and lovable. They made it all worth it.  
It was a month after the birth when he got the call. Sophia had died. He didn’t want to believe it, couldn't believe it, until he got a call from her parents. John took the news hard, shutting down for a few hours. Nothing brought him from the trance the news put him in.   
It would go down as the worst day of his life.  
A few days after the horrible news the funeral was held. John spoke a bit, prepared a speech about her for all their friends and family. When they were allowed to pass her coffin be placed a few pictures of their sons in with her before they closed it and she was gone from their lives forever.  
The funeral ended and everyone but John went home. He stayed at the grave, the engraved words, all blending on the gray stone. It took him a moment to notice he was crying and when he did, he let the tears fall shamelessly to the ground. He was going to miss her.  
He drove home, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do now. His new plans were once again ripped to shreds. The mother of his sons was gone and there was nothing he could do. No one to help after he moved into the real world. He couldn't stay with his parents forever.   
As he stepped out of his car he looked at the only home he had known. It looked older than before, smaller even. It felt odd. He was shaken from his thoughts by his mother stepping outside, Milo cradled in her arms.  
John blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes again before slowly moving towards them. He took Milo from her and kissed his cheek earning a small gurgle from the boy as he moved inside.  
The other two boys were found sleeping on their blanket that Sophia’s mother knitted for them. They were huddled together, almost grasping each other's hand. John sat on the floor next to them, gently rocking Milo as he sucked on his fingers.  
He was silent for a moment before speaking up. “I know you boys just lost your mother,” he said quietly, wiping his eyes again, “but you still have a father. I will be here for you no matter what. I’ll make sure you guys have the best life you can have.” That was his new plan. His boys would become his life. Nothing would get between them, he would make sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Through the mirror 

Six years later, John Watson was still working on making a plan. He had found a job with a flat above it which was rather convenient for the twenty four year old. The job was easy enough. It was running a book shop. The landlord was nice enough to let John live above the flat with his son's and let him work with the boys hanging around the shop when they had to. But mostly it was John alone while they were all at school. And on the weekend John worked as a bartender at a local club. He mostly let his sister watch the kids while he was gone. 

John couldn't believe how much they had grown in the last six years. Harrison still had his chubby cheeks from his bag years, and his hair was blond like John's. He had to wear glasses, and had since he was four. John found out when the boy kept walking into things thinking they were further away than they actually were. That was quite a hassle. He never wanted to wear them and purposefully forgot them at home often. Which caused John to leave work and bring them all the way to the school and then drive all the way back. But he recently learned that his brothers didn't mind bringing them to the school so if he ever saw him without them he would find his extra pair and give them to Quincy or Milo. They would in turn give them to their brother at school. 

Quincy was quite the book worm. He almost always had a book tucked under his arm and was always willing to help anyone with their school work. He looked more like John than the others, his blue eyes shinning, and his hair was blond as well. It was more curly like their mother's though. He helped John put away books when he was with him after school, and helped him find books for customers that wanted a specific one. 

Milo was a bit of the odd one out. He was the only one with red hair, their mother shining more in him than any of the others. Also, he was quiet, not really talking with anyone unless he absolutely needed to. He was picked on at school but Harrison, who was not shy at all, and Quincy, always stood up for him. 

That was if it wasn't the three that were fighting each other. John got numerous calls stating that the boys were fighting each other again. It was usually over something stupid too, like who got the red yogurt or who got more peanut butter on their sandwich. John would go and pick them all up, berating them the whole way home before sending them to do their homework separately. He didn't understand why the school thought they needed to be sent home. It wasn't as if they were hitting each other. Just yelling. Mostly. 

But John took everything as well as he could. He wouldn't trade his kids for the world. That was for sure. But he would trade his job for one that paid better and would help him get through school and not make him have to work two jobs. 

His dream of becoming a doctor were becoming smaller and smaller. But he still kept his head up and tried to think of nothing but the positive. If he had the time he would be taking classes but he worked every day, and at night he was a dad. He always said when they were older. His mother said she could take them a few nights a week but then John would get to see them less than he already did. He couldn't live without seeing them. 

It was hard enough they had started school. 

Though John was determined to give them the best life they could possibly have. The one he had growing up where he was happy for the most part and nothing really seemed to bother him. He wanted them to have that life. 

He hoped it was like that for them. John didn't have enough money to spoil them much except for Christmas and their birthdays. He was lucky they all had the same birthday. It was easy to get them one big gift then small individual gifts. 

John didn't even care about his birthday. He just wanted them to be happy. 

John sighed softly, leaning against the counter that sat towards the back wall of the shop but it could still see the door. As usual a medical book was open in front of him and he was reading. Just because he couldn't go to school didn't mean he couldn't learn. He never knew what life would give him. 

He learned that the hard way. 

But he was reading over a medical book, one that focused on stomach problems. He thought it would be useful with kids. 

John read over the words, his eyes tired and slow. The night before he had spent a lot of time calming Harrison down from a nightmare, then Quincy wanted water once he knew his brother was awake. Milo just tried to sleep but John knew he was up as well. There wasn't much sleeping to be done with one is crying and one is whining. But as far as nights went it wasn't the worst. 

John was pulled from his thoughts about the night before by the bell going off. He noticed he hadn't read anything on the page in front of him and he rubbed his eyes. He lifted his head to see who came in, smiling softly. "Good afternoon," he said to the man. 

John couldn't help but notice that he was quite handsome although he looked a little older than John. Maybe in his thirties. John wish he could tell. He had pale skin, sharp cheekbones, and eyes that looked like they could see right through you. 

It made butterflies go through his stomach. He hadn't actively felt that feeling in years. "Do you need any help?" He asked, the man not looking at him yet. 

Well, not really looking at him. He was looking around the shop, his eyes darting around. Though when John asked if he needed help his head snapped to him. 

"Yes," the man stated, his voice deep and it sounded a little labored. 

Was he just running or something? He looked in shape so surely just walking into the shop didn't do that to him. John just shrugged it off and stood from his stool. "What are you looking for?" He asked. 

"Forensic books," he told him quickly. "I need anything that may involve stabbings. Maybe a book about ice picks, or knives."

John was a bit taken back by that but he nodded. By the sounds of it he would want it quickly. He turned and headed towards a section he thought would have some of the books the man was asking for. 

It took him a few minutes actually find two books that might be beneficial to him. "Um, I found these," he said, showing the man. Though, when he looked at him he had three books in his arms already. "Oh, you might not need these then." He was blushing now. Clearly his expertise wasn't really needed. 

The man shook his head, grabbing the books from John and reading over the titles as he did so. "These will be great," he said with a grin. "Thank you." 

John nodded, smiling a bit. "Of course, if you come this way I'll check you out," he told him. He stepped around him and led him back to his counter. He took the books from him and scanned them all as quickly as he could. 

The man held out his card, not waiting for the balance. John quickly ran it through their system before handing it back. "Will that he all?" He asked. 

"Yes, you may have just helped solve a murder case, thank you," the man said before taking his stack of books and leaving just as quickly as he came in. 

John sat back, watching the door as it closed behind him. His heart was beating fast in his chest, a sure sign of attraction. Though he was sure he would never see the man again. 

John tried to push away the thoughts of him. All he had to do was take a look down at his card and he would have found his name. If he didn't slide the receipt into the last book he would have been able to as well. Just a name and he could have gotten somewhere. 

But none of that mattered. He wouldn't have had any time to actually go on a date with him. And that was even if the man liked men. 

John only shook his head and went back to reading. It was almost time for the boys to come home anyway. He had to focus on that. 

X

When three finally came John was up and out of his seat. He was lucky enough to have another parent pick the boys up and drop them off at the shop. It wasn't often that people would want to drive home three extra rowdy kids. 

John stood outside the shop, stretching his legs a bit for he had been sitting for the most of the afternoon. Helping the man out was all he really did all day except put up the new books but that was usually accomplished before noon. 

Occasionally they would get book donations and he would quickly look them over before deciding how much they would cost or if they could even sell them. 

So, his legs were a bit stiff and he was happy to be up and outside. 

It was a nice warm day. He was thinking that if the boys were up to it he would take them to the park once the shop closed. 

It would be good for all of them. 

The van pulled to the curb and John grinned as the door opened and his son jumped out. 

"Hey guys!" He grinned, pulling them all into hugs. 

"Daddy, Daddy, I drew a picture for you," Quincy told him. He stepped away, eager to get his bag off so he could pull out the picture. 

Harrison just clung to John's leg once he stood up, apparently not wanting to be too far at the moment. "I drew a picture too," he told him. 

"I did too," Milo laughed, tugging in John's hand to bring him towards the shop again. He wanted to get inside. 

"Hold on Milo!" Quincy scolded as he tried to unzip his bag. A task that wasn't too difficult unless you were rushing to get something out. 

John laughed softly, pulling Milo up with one arm, the boy giggling before he moved his legs to grasp against John and holding him. John moved his arm around his waist before he held his hand out to Quincy. "Come on bud, show me inside," he told him. 

Quincy let out a huff in defeat, dropping his bag against the sidewalk and dragging it behind him as he walked inside. John rolled his eyes, finding it funny how dramatic his kids could be. 

"Pick up your bag, Quince or you will have to sit in the corner," John told him as he looked at him. He wasn't going to let him believe that he thought it was. If he did he would just continue to do it. 

Quincy let out a bit sigh but he pulled up his bag. 

"Lose the attitude too, or you will not be happy," John told him in a serious tone. 

Quincy looked down. All he wanted to do was show him the picture he drew for him. "Okay dad," he said quietly. 

John smiled and looked at Milo. "Is this the stop sir?" He asked once they were at the counter. 

Milo nodded and wiggled out of his arms before he ran to the kids table they had in the shop. He pulled his bag off and pulled out his folder. 

Harrison didn't move one bit from his dad. John just ruffled his hair as he looked at Quincy. He had finally gotten out the picture. "Here Daddy," he said as he held it up to him. 

John looked at it and smiled. It was a picture of him doing a strong man pose and all of them sitting at his feet. "I love it," he told him. He motioned for him to come in for a hug. 

When he pulled away John bent down to lift Harrison off his leg. "Hey there little man," he said, sitting him in the counter. "You alright?" 

Harrison nodded, reaching out for a hug. "I missed you," he told him. 

John pulled him close, the boy took the hug as an opportunity to just latch onto him to be held. John laughed softly as he tried to pull away. He didn't mind. He held onto the six year old, moving to walk over to Milo. "Can I see your picture?" He asked. 

Milo looked up and nodded. He pushed it over to him. "It's us at school," he told him. "Sorry I didn't draw you." 

John shook his head. "There's no reason to be sorry, I love seeing pictures your drawings. They make me happy when you guys are away at school." 

Milo smiled, rather happy with the answer it seemed. He looked at Harrison and the smile disappeared. "Harry cried at school today," he told him. 

"Milo, you said you weren't going to tell," Harrison said, looking down at his brother. 

John looked at Harrison, rubbing his back. It wasn't often that Harrison cried, usually when he was scared. He was usually the one that was the reason any of them were crying. 

"Alright, no fighting," John said after a moment. "Come on, Harrison. Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" 

Harrison shook his head defiantly, burying his face in his neck. "Nuh-uh," he mumbled. 

John sighed softly, looking at his other sons before looking at Harrison again. "Do you want to tell me in secret?" He asked him quietly. 

Harrison lifted his head, wiping his nose. "In secret," he said with a nod. 

John nodded and brought him back to the counter. "Quincy and Milo, please stay over there," he told them. 

Quincy nodded and pulled out his homework to work on. Though he kept glancing towards his father and brother. 

John sat in his chair, moving the boy to his lap. He looked at him and gave a nod. "Okay, tell me," he said softly. 

Harrison rubbed his eyes, looking down as if he was ashamed. John had never really seen Harrison like this at all. When the boy finally spoke he kept his head down still. "Buckley was being mean again," he murmured. 

John sighed, his shoulders dropping. Buckley was the one student that actually bullied the kids in the class. He was a year older than all of them. "To Milo and Quincy?" 

Harrison shook his head. "To me, I told him to shut up but he just kept calling me names. Said my mummy didn't love me enough to stay." 

John just pulled the boy into a tight hug. "Harrison, you know that's not true," he said softly. "She loved all of you boys. She didn't want to be away from you guys at all after you were born." He gently rubbed his back, sighing softly. "You tell him next time that your mum still loves you even if she's not here. Okay? If he says anything at all to you again. I'll also have a word with the teacher."

Harrison nodded, wiping a hand across his nose. "Okay, daddy," he whispered. "Thank you." 

John kissed his nose and smiled. "Alright, now that that's settled let's go over and help your brother's with their homework. Did you finish yours?" 

Harrison shook his head, wiping his nose again. "Not yet," he said quietly. 

John nodded and sat down at the table with his son's. "Then let's get to it then." 

X

The weekend came around rather quickly and John was hanging out with the boys. He would have to go to work in a few hours but he wasn't worrying about that. He didn't want to miss more time with his kids. 

They were all sitting on the floor, coloring pictures. Milo was tucked close to John, coloring on the same picture as he was. "Daddy," he started and tilted his head back. 

John laughed when his head hit his chin and quickly moved to the side. "Yes my love?" He asked softly. 

"When is Aunt Harry coming?" He asked, moving too so he could look at John. 

"She will be here in about an hour," he told him after glancing at the clock. "Are you guys going to behave for her this time?" 

Harrison giggled and nodded. "Yes," he said. 

Quincy grinned at John, not looking innocent at all. "Of course, daddy. We're always good."

John rolled his eyes. "You're lucky your aunt grew up with me as a brother. She can handle it but I still don't went you giving her a hard time." 

"We won't," Milo said with a smile. He laid back on his stomach and went back to coloring. "We love Aunt Harry." 

"I know you guys do," John said softly, kissing his head. "Don't worry. But sometimes you guys are a handful for her." 

The boys were quiet and John got up to get a lunch going for them. He would have it ready by the time Harry came and the boys would be distracted by the food and he could leave without them giving him too much trouble. 

And almost right on cue Quincy snatched the crayon out of Harrison hand. "I need blue," he said. 

"Hey!" Harrison said, quickly reaching for it again. "That's my crayon." 

"Uh-uh, daddy says they're all our crayons," Quincy said, not paying attention to him. 

"Daddy!" Harrison whined, kicking his feet. 

John closed his eyes. "Give the crayon back to your brother, Quince. I need you to behave," he sighed softly. 

The door to the flat opened and Harry walked in. "Thank god," he muttered under his breath before he got up. "Aunt Harry is here!" He announced, watching as the boys ran to her. 

John kissed her cheek. "You're early. Good. I can go," he hummed. "They're a bit rowdy today, if you have any problems just call the club." 

"I can handle my nephews, John," Harry smiled. "Go to work, leave your family." 

John glared at his sister before kneeling down. "Alright, give dad a hug," he said, opening his arms. All three boys ran at him at once and managed to find a spot to throw their arms around. 

Quickly, John kissed all of their heads and said his goodbyes. He stood and kissed his sister cheek one last time before leaving. Though he heard Harrison yell about that blue crayon just as the door shut. 

X

It was two thirty in the morning, John's shirt was slowly coming to an end. He only had an hour before the club closed and everyone was to go home. Hopefully. He didn't want to have to deal with too many drunk or strung out people. 

John was pouring a drink for a woman when someone caught his eye. It was that man from the shop. He swallowed quickly and offered a smile, wondering if the other would recognize him. 

But it didn't seem like it as the man just sat down, giving him barely a glance before he looked towards the crowd of people. 

John couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. Had he really not made a good impression? Maybe the man just didn't really look at him. He sighed and handed the woman her drink. 

John took the opportunity of being able to stare at the man who wasn't even paying attention to him. He was just as good looking from behind as he was from the front. 

The man turned and caused John to turn bright red. "Good evening sir, what can I get for you?" He asked over the music. 

"Water?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm on the job. Not really suppose to drink." 

John quickly nodded and turned. He grabbed a glass but paused. This was his chance. Probably the only one he would ever get. He took out his pen and quickly scrawled his number on a napkin with his name written underneath it. 

With shaking hand he set both on the counter, number face down so he wouldn't notice right away. "On the house," he said with a wink. 

The man only nodded, taking the glass and turning again. 

John let out a small breath and fell back against the counter behind him. He was going crazy over some stranger. What was wrong with him? Someone that wouldn't even pick up that napkin. 

He pushed that away and just focused on serving the other customers. With his back turned he didn't notice that the man had looked at the napkin and slipped it into his pocket for safe keeping. He left a nice tip on the counter before darting off. 

X

John really had almost forgotten about the mysterious man with the mysterious good looking face, and the way his voice mysteriously sounded like chocolate melting in your mouth. John couldn't really explain that last one but he had fallen for a stranger. 

He had managed to get him out of his mind during the day, mostly thinking about him at night when he couldn't sleep. 

Which was why he was just going about his work, stacking books onto the shelves as he hummed along, not thinking about the tall handsome man. But that quickly was dashed away when he heard that voice call out into the shop. 

"Hello?" He called. "Is anyone working today or do I just get to take a book?" 

John quickly scrambled away from the back, nearly knocking over the stack of books he was trying to shelve. "Yes, yes, that's me," he said with a smile. "Hello. How can I help you today?" 

The man held out his hand. "Sherlock Holmes, and you are John?" He asked, though he already knew.

John took his hand and quickly shook it. "Yes, yes, that's me. I'm John," he said, positive that he heard his voice crack. He felt the world slowly shrinking though, his cheeks going bright red. 

"You left me your number at the bar," Sherlock said, holding up the napkin. "However, the number was ruined by the water on the outside of the glass." 

John looked at the napkin, chuckling a bit. He didn't even think the man had gotten the napkin at all and here it was. "Oh, well I'm terribly sorry," he said, looking down. 

"Nothing to be sorry about, I was just hoping I could have a way of contacting you when I'm not here," Sherlock smiled. He held out his hand, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

John looked at his hand before looking back up to his face. God, he really was gorgeous. "Um....what....do you want me to write it again for you?" 

"Oh no, that won't be necessary. I would like to put my number in your phone," Sherlock said, waving his hand with a smirk. "If you don't mind." 

John was sure he looked like a gaping fish, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. "Yeah, of course," he said, quickly fishing his phone out of his pocket. "H-here you go." 

Sherlock took the phone, letting his fingers brush against John's hand just to see what it would do to him. And he had to admit, it was a lovely sight to see him shiver like that. Quickly he put his number into John's phone, sending a message to himself so he had John's number. 

"There we are, I even did you a favor by asking me out," Sherlock smiled. "Yes, I'm free Thursday night for dinner. I'll pick you up however and will be picking out the restaurant. I'm a bit picky with where I eat."

"Thursday night?" John asked, looking at the message. It was just a message to Sherlock asking him out. How was this guy so smooth? "I...I have kids. I don't know if I can go out." 

"Oh that's not a problem," Sherlock said. "I already knew you had children. What is it? Two....boys and one girl?" 

"Three boys," John said numbly, staring at him. "How did you know it was three kids though?" He felt a slight unease In his stomach but he wasn't ready to run away yet. 

"Oh there always is something," Sherlock murmured. He shook his head, sighing. "You're tired and you work two jobs, multiple kids are harder than just one to raise and pay for. This job seems like it would pay enough for one kid. Also, there is a picture right there, can't really see faces but there are three children in it. If they were friend's children or nephews then you wouldn't be this tired." He looked him over, waiting for him to at least get angry at him. 

"Oh wow," John murmured, looking at the picture then to the man. ""That was a little impressive." 

"A little?" Sherlock asked, a small hurt but surprised look on his face. 

"Yeah," John chuckled. "Don't...look too hurt mate. I still thought it was a good observation, just one that's too simple." 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well, moving on from that blow," he joked, clasping his hands behind his back. "I can arrange for a sitter or if you insist they can come with us and I will pick a more family friendly restaurant." 

"I can't afford to take three six years olds out to eat," John told him. 

Sherlock looked at him confused for a moment before laughing. "Nonsense. You're not paying for dinner. I will be." 

"Why are you paying for dinner?" John asked, confused as well. 

"Because you're raising three six years olds," Sherlock laughed, shaking his head. "You're smart, and that was a simple observation you should have known that." 

"So would you pay for the sitter as well?" John asked, wondering what his motive really was. No one just offered to pay for dinner for a whole family. 

"Yes, of course. Whatever you choose I will pay for," Sherlock said. He narrowed his eyes at him. "You don't trust me?" 

"I don't really know you all too well," John shrugged. "But....I can use my sister if she isn't working Thursday night so you don't have to pay." 

"You have a sister not a brother?" Sherlock asked. "I am really off the mark today with those. If you feel comfortable with you sister watching your children on nights when she doesn't usually then that will be fine." 

"What do you mean?" John asked, moving to Lean against the desk. 

"Well, she is an alcoholic. I assume she doesn't drink when she normally watches the children, but on night that she doesn't she drinks more than she should," Sherlock explained as if it were common knowledge. 

John licked his lips and shifted against the desk. "How did you know she's an alcoholic? though she is a recovering one," he quickly pointed out. 

Sherlock took John's phone again and showed him the marks. "I know this isn't your phone, your name is not Harry. So, I assumed brother. But these are clear signs of an alcoholic. Every night she went to plug it in she would kiss because her hands were shaky. And I'm afraid she could be drinking again because of the brake up with Clara. It was recent. You just got this phone. It too long ago. Your sister gave it to you because she doesn't want to be reminded of her ex....wife. And I know you just got it because there is a text in there from Clara dating a few days ago asking to talk about their problems. You didn't tell your sister though because that could hurt her more if they couldn't work it out again. You have a big heart John, I can see that. Don't let it get in the way though." 

Now John was impressed. He stared at him for a few moments before laughing. "That was amazing," he said softly. "That you knew all of that just from a few seconds with my phone. That's....wow." 

Now Sherlock was grinning. John wasn't telling him to shove off or hitting him. That was new. "Yes, well it was easy," he said, blushing just a little. "So, what will it be? Have your sister watch them, have a different sitter, or bring them with us?" 

John was quiet for a few moments, chewing his lip. "I think....I just the two of us with a different sitter," he said softly. "But I choose the sitter." 

"I wouldn't dream of picking for you," Sherlock said with a smile. "It's a date then. Thank you for asking me out, John." 

John chuckled softly. "You're welcome, Sherlock," he said softly. 

"I must go now," Sherlock told him after catching a glimpse of the time. "I have a one o'clock meeting and it's nearly one now. I will see you Thursday." He turned and quickly dashed out.

John nodded, feeling as if he was left in some kind of wake of a storm. "Yeah, see you Thursday," he said as the door shut behind him. 

This was going to be interesting indeed.


End file.
